Primus and the Garden of Zen
by icanhascamaro
Summary: Thanks to the events of DotM, Primus gains a few new roomies. Needless to say, he's not exactly thrilled about it. Post-DotM. Oneshot.


xXxXxX

Forget a good millennium, Primus was not having a good day. And for a being as timeless as Primus was, a day's worth of time was miniscule. And yet, it seemed to be going from bad to worse. It wasn't just that his children were fighting.

_Again_.

It happened to be that, while his back was turned, things had gone to the Pit faster than Blurr could speak. And that was pretty fast.

Worse off was that one of his Primes had gone bad, with good intentions (of _course_), and so had set off a chain reaction that began with the murder of Ironhide and ended up with the near relocation of Cybertron.

"For the record, space bridging a planet is the worst fragging idea in the history of all fragging bad ideas," Primus muttered under his breath. "And this killing mechs left and right in only the last five or so Earth years? Brilliant. First I had to deal with Jazz, then the lesser twins." Primus sighed. "What _was_ I thinking when I created them? Now thanks to Sentinel, I have one very pissed off mech to deal with. And not just any mech, noooo, it's Ironhide."

To be clear, Primus wasn't afraid of Ironhide. Not at all.

However, Ironhide was very pissed off and he was making demands.

And an Ironhide with demands was _annoying_.

"If I have to hear him complaining about not being able to kill Sentinel all by himself, I'm going to send him to Unicron," Primus growled to himself. "Let _him_ deal with those two fraggers on his own."

"**PRIMUS!**"

The Cybertronian god winced at the bellow; though he certainly feared no mech, he could only avoid his fallen (fallen as in dead, not fallen as in "Fallen, The") children for so long. Normally, the atmosphere of the Well was unquestionably one of utter peace and contentment. It just happened that Ironhide hadn't gotten that memo, nor did he care.

The large black mech stormed up to Primus and glared at his Ultimate Creator. "Send me back."

Primus sighed inwardly. "Ironhide, I can't just…"

"The Pit you can't!" Ironhide bellowed again. "You're Primus! There's nothing you can't do!"

"I can't shut you up, can I?"

"WHAT?!"

"What?" Primus echoed a nanoclik after Ironhide's infuriated snarl.

The black mech glared at Primus coldly. "I'm not some kind of a stupid sparkling, Primus. Don't try to change my demands, because I won't stop asking you."

"You weren't exactly _asking_ me anything, Ironhide," Primus aimed for a gentle tone, even though he knew it would more than likely piss off the black mech even more.

And it did.

"What Sentinel did to me was un-fragging –fair!"

"You think _that_ was unfair?" Primus felt his processor starting to ache. "How about what _I_ have to deal with? Not only is my Eternal Peace and Quiet disturbed _frequently_ by a certain mech standing very close to me at this very moment, I have to deal with a catatonic Starscream curled up the corner _waaaay_ over there, Megatron is whining about his murderous brother, Jazz is talking about cracking some bitches, _and _Unicron has been cackling – _**cackling**_ – his aft off over _**all**_ of this! So before you start whining some more about how Sentinel Prime shot you in the back like the slagging coward he is, SHUT. THE. _FRAG. __**UP**_."

"…but…"

Primus pierced Ironhide with a glare of his own. "Do NOT continue your whining."

And with his piece fully said, Primus turned to storm off to try to reclaim his Peace and Zen.

Four words would have him stopping in his tracks.

"It's not for me."

Now, Primus could easily pull any information from his children's processors. It was simple enough to Primus. As easy and natural as it was for an organic to breathe. However, he decided to respect his children and not skim their processors for the information.

Instead, he asked Ironhide four words of his own. "Who is it for?"

When the mech didn't answer, Primus turned around and was surprised by the resignation he saw in his child's blue optics.

"Will."

Primus nodded slowly. "Your organic charge."

"And his family," the black warrior stated firmly. "They _**need**_ me."

'_No more than you need them,' _Primus thought to himself.

When Primus didn't respond, Ironhide apparently thought the worst. "Please, Primus…I am not asking this for myself." A pause, followed by, "I ask this for them."

"You haven't felt this sort of responsibility for a long time. Have you?" Primus cocked his head to the side. "Not since…"

Ironhide quickly interrupted his creator. "It is for them and that is enough for me."

Primus vented a sigh. "Give me a little time, Ironhide. There are things I need to consider." And with that, Primus turned to leave.

But Ironhide was not yet finished. "Don't take too long, Primus. You know how short lived these organics are." A snort. "It's ridiculous."

Primus felt a grin quirk his faceplates. "Understood."

A keening came from far off in the distance, a sound full of pain and despair.

"See what I have to put up with?" Primus shook his head. "Starscream's going to need therapy after this."

Ironhide vented an unnecessary burst of air. "I…see." He shook his head. "I almost feel sorry for the poor fragger."

Primus arched eyebrow plating.

"I said _almost_," Ironhide growled. "I still don't know how that vain slagger ended up here."

And with _that_ (and a snort of amusement) Primus quickly left the area with a simple teleport to his private meditation area. The location was private and very peaceful. It was Primus' safe haven and was modeled after a Japanese rock garden he'd once seen. A few mini-bots were at ease in caring for the garden, and took a contented delight in shaping the garden and making complex designs in the sand.

The Cybertronian god sank into a very warm version of a hot tub which was sunken into the ground. Only this hot tub was filled with warm oil, not water. It got into every nook and cranny and began to work its magic to ease the tension from Primus' frame. His thoughts began to wander and his stress level began to diminish.

_This was worth that visit to Earth,_ Primus thought contentedly. _Very worth it._

"Yo, Primus!" The laid back voice broke into Primus' Nearing Zen state of Processor thoughts with a jolt. "I need to ask ya a favor, man!"

"Jazz." Primus gritted his denta and stared at the only mech brave enough to dare enter the meditation area. "What is it."

"I heard ol' Ironhide askin' you about going back."

"And?"

"Can I go back, too?"

A long sigh sounded as Primus slowly vented. "Why are you dead, Jazz?"

"What? Way to blow the zen atmosphere, dude." Jazz came closer and sat at the edge of the hot tub, which to Jazz was more like a large pond than a hot tub. He eased his feet into the warm oil. "Oh, my man, now _that_ feels good."

"Yes," Primus aimed a dry look Jazz's way. "I know. Now, _why_ are you _dead_?"

"Easy," Jazz leveled a dry look of his own back to Primus. "Megatron has issues."

"Touché."

"So why _is_ Megsy here at the Well?" Jazz gave a little shrug. "Given what he did t'me, I'd have figured he'd be in the Pit."

"Do you want the long or short story?"

"Short story, please." the mech paused. "And no crackin' jokes about my height."

Primus, who was about to do just that, said, "Much like the humans say, although paraphrased to fit the purpose of this fine analogy..."

"To the _point_, my mech!"

"Unicron was afraid Megatron would take over."

Jazz shot Primus a very doubtful look.

"Okay, okay," Primus held up his hands, which dripped hot dark oil, "You are all my children, Jazz, even the bad ones."

"Yet Sentinel is way down in the Pit?"

"Unicron has his favorites?"

"Honestly," Jazz sighed deeply. "Some mechs."

"Unicron gets the really, really, really bad children."

"Yeah, I don't think I want to know any more than that," Jazz shook his head. "How about another topic, one that's far closer to my spark?"

Primus inclined his head. "Alright then. Why should I send you back?"

"I never got time to experience Earth," Jazz sighed, almost dreamily. "I got to just taste it, you know? I picked up a bitchin' alt mode, hooked up to the internet, and just scratched the surface of Earth's music."

"And you can't do that now?"

"I been back and forth to Earth _since_ I died, you know that, but it ain't the same."

Primus sighed again and let himself sink a little lower into the warm oil. _'Maybe I should let him go back.'_

_:Yes, that's right, let him go back, brother…: _Unicron cackled once again into Primus' thoughts. _:Let him indulge in…SENTINEL, SHUT THE FRAG UP! I DON'T __**CARE**__ HOW MUCH YOU WANT TO KILL IRONHIDE __**AGAIN**__…:_

The comm between them silenced so fast that Primus blinked.

That was…odd.

Then Primus smiled and chuckled, almost letting out a cackle of his own. _:Looks like your own servos are full, __**brother**__.:_

_:Shut the frag up,:_ came the pissed of answer.

Yes, Primus was suddenly in a much better mood.

He sat forward in the oil suddenly, sloshing a bit up over the edge. He saw Jazz shift back a bit, unsure at his deity. "I think you may have a point, Jazz."

"Whuh?!"

"You want to go back to experience Earth, yes?"

"Well, yeah…"

"And Ironhide wants to go back to indulge in protecting his human and whatever, correct?"

"I suppose so…"

"So why the slag not?"

Jazz's optics brightened behind his visor. "Seriously?"

_If it gets you out of my servos for even a __**few**__ more millennia… _"Totally."

"Fuckin' A!"

Primus grimaced at the slang. "Er…yes?"

xXxXxX

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